


Punch Drunk

by Davechicken



Series: The Pilot and his Knight [28]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 07:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6694537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poe should keep more of an eye out on the punch table. And his boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Punch Drunk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poetdameron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetdameron/gifts).



Poe realises, three glasses of Snap’s special ‘punch’ in to himself, that Kylo had no idea how alcoholic a pilot’s idea of a good night in is. They’ve had wine with their meals from time to time, but as Poe can be expected to fly missions at a moment’s notice, they’ve never really gone in for much in the way of intoxicants.

He also thought, on some level, that Kylo would just Force his way sober, and he really only likes a mild buzz himself, unless there’s a special occasion. Like tonight. Finn aced his flying test, and as such they’re all celebrating. Off to one side, Snap is trying to convince him that drinking his height in shots is a good idea, and Rey isn’t doing anything to dissuade him.

Poe should probably be grateful that Kylo hasn’t sat any flying tests, yet. The squadron would go even harder (read: more lovingly evil) on him. Which would likely result in his death, if this is anything to go by.

First off, Kylo got talkative. Poe wrote it off as just the atmosphere of the room, (Kylo was very reactive, and the happier people around him were, the happier he was, too. To a point.) but when he found his Knight discussing Pod Racing with Ello in excruciating detail, complete with hand-gestures and levitating things in demonstration… yeah. His boyfriend was several solar panels to the sun.

He watches with intense curiosity as Kylo becomes **very vocal** on minor subjects, the whole Tall Dark and Brooding thing coming across loud and clear while he - ah - opines on the subject of _boot polish_. His boyfriend is a dork. A dork who is apparently harbouring deeply held convictions about everything under the sun, and is now of the opinion that everyone needs to hear. His opinion. 

After watching him talk Nien’s ears clean off, Poe grabs his Knight’s arm and pulls him, trying to get him out of the gravity well of the punch bowl. It’s addictive stuff.

“C’mere, babe.”  


“But I was going to–”  


“C’mere.” Poe repeats with a little more force, almost a soft growl. He watches as Kylo’s pupils dilate (oh so obvious), and vaguely nods in acquiescence.   


“Alright.”  


Poe holds his hand and pulls him to the side of the room, smiling at the air of confusion emanating from his beloved. He can be a tease, too, if he wants. Kylo keeps in close, and doesn’t even object at the hands on his hips, the upturned face demanding kisses.

Kylo often objects. He prefers their relationship remain private, to the nth degree. He accepts kisses and hand-holding and murmured terms of endearment, but he definitely doesn’t nuzzle his face into Poe’s neck where anyone could see. 

So that’s the second clue to how much Kylo’s imbibed. His hands slide awkwardly over Poe’s clothes, then tugs and pries at them, not trying to strip him, but apparently needing to burrow his hands underneath to make skin-to-skin contact. His fingers are warm, which is a blessing, and his teeth and lips are still sharp and making light work of his neck.

“Kylo….”  


“Mmmnnnf.”  


Poe would love to let him keep that up, but they’re in public, so he drags his lover’s hands off him, and guides him to a couch. They can sober up, there.

***

Or, you know, not. Kylo goes from Talky to Feely to Talky again. But the earnestly, serious, devoted sense is gone (the one that likely knew every last name of every last bolt on the _Falcon_ ), and now he’s just telling Poe over and over how pretty he is (pretty, that’s the word), and he says it in fifteen different tones of voices with a mournful, wistful expression. How he’s pretty, and brave, and wonderful. Poe gives up on trying to hold a conversation, and copes with the hand on his cheek and the _oh so loving_ look on Kylo’s face when he tells him the same thing for the umpteenth time like it’s the secret to life, the universe and everything.

Poe is sure his attractiveness isn’t even part of the _question_.

***

After the gushy mode comes the briefly melancholic mode. Kylo keeps tearing up, his eyes wet, when something reminds him of a sad occasion. His beloved refuses to be comforted, and bewails the universe. This apparently implies that the sad march of entropy, the rise of the First Order, and his favourite cheese no longer being sold are all on a par and part of a galactic conspiracy of hate. 

***

Fortunately, it never devolves into dancing. Though Poe thinks if he didn’t keep an eye on him, he’d be punching someone out. It’s not that he’s a nasty drunk, it’s just that he’s apparently lost every single inhibition he has. 

Finn bumps into him by mistake, making Poe wince, and Kylo then proceeds to tell Finn he loves him, he’ll love him even when he’s sober, but the love isn’t like Poe-love, and– well. Poe clamps a hand over his mouth to shut him up.

Kylo licks it.

Poe is unsurprised.

***

By the time the party is winding down, Kylo has passed out on the couch. He’s sprawled, face-down, one arm trailing to the floor and a snoring noise to rival a faulty hyperdrive making the whole couch vibrate. Snap looks delighted, and holds up a marker pen, but Poe shakes his head.

“Not tonight, Snap.”  


“Aww, but Poe…”  


“Let him sleep this one out safely. I’ll warn him next time, and if he does it again…”  


Well. Then he’s fair game for whatever punishment a pilot and his best friend think fitting.

And Poe? Poe has lots of wicked ideas. 


End file.
